United We Stand
by binawitch01
Summary: Peggy Carter's granddaughter is a bit of a handful, but nothing Coulson and her BUS team can't handle. Very attached to SHIELD and her newfound friends, Genevieve (don't call her that,) happily joins them and their crazy antics, creating some of her own along the way. And she happens to grow close to the certain engineering Scot on the team. Fitz/OC.
1. Chapter 1: Prologue: Peggy

_A/N: Hello everyone! So, if you are someone who's read my other fics, this isn't the one you were looking for (most likely.) I'm sorry, but my muse has been jumping all over the place when it comes to fics. This one popped into my head while re-watching some of the older episodes._

 _If this is your first time reading a story of mine, welcome! This little idea grew into its own, and I'm happy with how these first few chapters. I noticed how little fanfictions there are for Fitz and OCs, and I just **had** to change that. I hope you all like my OC. Also, just for the sake of this first chapter, I'm not sure if I correctly written Peggy's mindset. If this is completely wrong, please tell me! I've only seen her in the Captain America movie, so I don't have much to base on. But besides that, I think this story is going to be awesome!_

 _Here's the preview for you guys!_

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Agents of SHIELD or any of their characters or plot lines. Those are all by Marvel. I only own my OC and her added plots._

* * *

Peggy Carter was never a family woman.

Well, she never thought herself to be one. Sure, she could see the importance of people in her life, but it was never really a goal of hers to get married and have kids. Her goal was to stop the Nazis, to serve in the War and do good in the world. Never would she think that she would want a family, would want a lover, would want _love_. But, there she was, a husband, a son, and a daughter on the way.

And she couldn't have been happier.

Her life was amazing. She was an agent of SHIELD. She was there when Steve Rogers had defeated the Red Skull, and she had a family of her own. She lived a successful life, and she was sure that her children would, too.

That's exactly what they did. Steve Carter (Peggy got to name him. Her husband wanted something different, but she insisted,) joined SHIELD the second he was able. 18, fresh out of high school, he enlisted and became one of the best, just like his parents. Kylie, Peggy's daughter, did the exact same thing.

It was like a family job. It went on for generations, no matter what their parents told them.

So, when Steve had married and had a daughter of his own, he wanted to protect her. He didn't want her to join SHIELD.

But, like a family curse, she did.

And this is her story.


	2. Chapter 2: Undercover Agents

_A/N: Hello lovelies! We aren't going to the BUS (or the start of the first season,) just yet. We have a little bit of a backstory to go through before we meet all our favourite Agents. Hold on, though! They're coming, I promise._

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Agents of SHIELD or any of their characters or plot lines. Those are all by Marvel. I only own Ginny and her added plots._

* * *

Two figures huddled close in the night. They stood together, in the shadow of a tall building. Their movement was minimal, fidgeting kept at bay and their coms tucked securely at their ears. They stood quietly, listening. Waiting.

People began to walk down the street, passed the figures that stood still. Good. Just what they wanted. Stay out of the light, get the mission done, report back to HQ. In and out. Quick and seamless.

When the group of businessmen were deemed far enough away from the two, they ran. The building was still lit up, meaning that there were still inhabitants inside. No problem for these two. Surprisingly, it was small for a building in New York. Three stories. Brick. If they wanted to make an entrance, they could. Walk right through the front door, get what they needed, and get out. But, it was supposed to be more of a stealth mission, curtesy of Nick Fury. They planned to get in through the roof entrance.

The one on the left looked at the one on the right. Leftie was taller, but not by much. Probably by an inch or two. Her hair, a strong, bright red, was in waves down her shoulders. Her startling green eyes were focused, concentrating on the men who were laughing as they passed. Both legs held a gun holster, and the guns were locked and loaded.

Rightie was almost the same. Her red hair was darker in color, and a few inches longer. She had it up in a ponytail. She was deemed the short one by her SO, and only because she missed that one inch that her SO has. Eyes, normally a sky blue, were dark like an ocean in a storm, and focused on her target. Her legs held gun holsters, complete with the artillery, standard SHIELD issue. But in her hands was a grappling hook. If they were getting to the roof, it was going to be old school.

"You sure this thing is going to work?" Rightie asked, holding up the hook. It was heavy and hard to maneuver in her hands.

"Of course I am!" Leftie assured. "C'mon, it's not the hardest thing we ever used. This should be a piece of cake."

Rightie started swing it in circles, gaining momentum with the metal. "Fine, but if I die climbing this thing I'm going to haunt you, Romanoff."

"Deal." Romanoff rolled her eyes at the younger agent playfully. She'd been her SO since she joined SHIELD, and she had to say, she was quite fond of her. Genevieve Carter was a handful, but one that Natasha could handle surprisingly with ease.

Genevieve threw the metal to the roof, securing it in place and tugging it a few times, just to be sure.

She showed the rope to Natasha, saying, "SOs first!"

"Really, Genevieve?" Natasha eyed the rope.

"Ginny, and yes. If it's so secure, show me." Ginny handed her SO the rope.

Romanoff begrudgingly took the rope, tugging on it as Ginny did, and then she hopped, her feet landing on the wall. Ginny could hear her strong, panicked breaths at first, but Tasha eventually slowed her breathing. She then took a tentative step up, and another, then another.

"Hey, this ain't so bad!" She called down as she was past a level. "You'll live."

"Thanks, Nat." Ginny rolled her eyes, though Natasha couldn't see them.

"Alright," Natasha grinned as she hopped onto the rooftop, "Your turn."

Ginny grabbed the rope with her hands, her heart thumping lightly. Next time she was on a mission, she wouldn't let Coulson pick their gadgets.

The moment she was off the side of the building, she threw her hands in the air and danced.

"Yes! Score one for Ginny, zero for scary building!" She whispered excitedly. Natasha took the grappling hook and set it aside, leaving it so they could use it again.

"That was the easy part, shorty. We still have to get to the computer, remember?" Natasha rolled her eyes at the younger ones antics.

Ginny stopped dancing to frown at her SO. "Could you just let me have my moment?"

"No." Natasha started for the entrance to the building. "Happiness is bad for SHIELD agents. It's like a disease."

"Ouch. Telling it like it is, huh?" Ginny got to the door, shaking the knob. Locked.

"As always, Ginny." Tasha nodded, and took a small piece of metal from her pocket. Barely three inches long, its circuits glowed with little blue lights. It was one of Coulson's favourite gadgets, as he liked to tell them.

She set the little metal on the lock, and stepped a foot away from it, with Ginny in tow. They stood quietly, and-

 _BZZZT!_

The instrument buzzed to life and exploded, getting them inside.

From there, it was silence. Only the sound of their breathing and light steps were heard. They ran through the halls as silently as possible, looking through office windows until they found the one they needed. The large one, obviously the bosses.

The light in the room was on, but no one was inside. They were taught to think the worst, that there was no good luck on a mission. But, no one noticeable in the room? Ginny was thinking that for once, luck was on their side.

"Anyone?" Romanoff whispered.

Carter shook her head. "Lucky today." Her British accent shone through.

Romanoff scoffed in indignation. "No such thing as luck on a mission."

"As Fury thinks. I like Coulson's mindset of luck."

Together, they inched to the door.

The door was locked as well. They expected that. This time, instead of using their handy dandy mini-bomb, Romanoff started using bobby pins to pick the door. That way, there wouldn't be an explosion, and it'd be easy to lock again afterwords.

 _CLICK_.

"Bingo!" Romanoff smiled, and she swung the door open. The agents walked in cautiously, scanning their surroundings and checking for surveillance cameras. None.

"Doesn't seem like this place is state-of-the-art on surveillance." Ginny noted.

"It's not state-of-the-art anything." Tasha agreed. "Just makes our job easier."

Ginny tapped her com, turning it on. "Alright, sir. We're in."

"Good job, agents." Nick Fury's voice rang strong through their ears. "Get into the computer yet?"

"No, sir." Romanoff answered. "We're working on that now."

"Alright. Check back in when you do." He said. The agents nodded.

"Yes, sir." And Ginny clicked the com off.

Natasha checked into the swivel chair at the large desk in the middle of the room. She spun in it once. "Comfy. I could get used to this."

"We'll make a petition." Carter continued her idea with a chuckle. "'Every SHIELD agent above level four gets a swivel chair at their desk. Colours are black, grey, and really dark grey.'"

"I like it." Romanoff grinned as she set the USB drive in and started clicking away at the keyboard. "It'll be perfect. No chair for Fury though. Agents only. No Director."

"Fury would disagree." Ginny clicked her tongue, but nonetheless held her smile. She loved the banter between her and Natasha on missions.

"Oooohhkay." Natasha held the 'okay' for as long as she could. Her fingers clicked the keys quickly, downloading the intel. "40 percent done. Anyone outside?"

Ginny went to the window, peering outside. "No. You're still good. But if you sped up I wouldn't mind either."

"Neither would I." She stared at the screen intently. "60 percent."

The two were glued to their spots in the quietness that followed after. They were in that room for a minute- or was it an hour? Ginny couldn't tell on missions. A minute could be an hour, and hour could be a minute. Time was never on her side.

Ginny took another peek out the window as Natasha informed, "74 percent," on the intel. There were two men wearing comfortable-looking clothing. Office type. The khaki pants, boring shirts tucked in, ties with patterns to make them look exciting. The men themselves wore bored expressions. One held a manilla folder with papers sticking out the sides, words made of tiny print barely legible on the fronts.

"We got company." Ginny stated. "Drop to the floor."

Romanoff and Carter knelt to the floor, and through the windows the workers were unaware of their presence. Romanoff underneath the desk, Carter behind a personal bubbler.

From what Carter could distinguish from the small corner of window she saw, the two not dressed to impress were making their way to the office.

"Shit." Carter grumbled.

The workers made it into the office. Ginny was hoping they'd take a left at the end of the hallway, but it seems luck wasn't on her side after all.

"- And then, he said 'cover my shift Saturday!' Can you believe it?" One worker finished telling a story as he walked to the desk, dropping the files down on the desk.

"What an asshole!" The other inquired. "Tell Jim to suck it up. He'll live with it. I'm sure Denise will understand."

Throughout the conversation, Carter seamlessly walked behind them, no noise made. Only the tap on their shoulders made them aware of the presence in the room.

They jumped, shocked, and turned. The small redhead behind them wore a black, skintight leather suit, complete with gadgets and strips of a bright blue hue. Her blue eyes looked at them seductively.

Carter's voice went up an octave. "Hey there, sweethearts."

The men looked at her, confused and mesmerized. Then, she swept her legs underneath them, sending them downward. They dropped to the floor, groaning.

"You have ten seconds, Agent." Carter told Romanoff.

"I need fifteen." Romanoff said, fingers flying to tap keys.

"Well, I'm certain that one of these two just set off an alarm, so you have ten." Carter looked down at them, and sure enough, one had a cell phone in his hand. They weren't as stupid as they looked.

"Great." Carter rolled her eyes. "If you need me, I'll be outside covering your ass." She quickly took the phone, throwing it to the side and breaking it against a wall.

"I'll be here. While you do that, maybe I'll make myself a cup of coffee." Natasha's jaw jutted to the espresso maker on a lousy table to her left.

Carter glared at her in mock anger, but dropped it as she said, "Make me a pumpkin spice please."

"I'll work on that." Romanoff chuckled.

"Take care of these two." Carter gestured to the two on the floor, and she took out her guns from the holsters on her legs. From what she was hearing, there were workers coming from each hallway, half a dozen making a group.

There were three hallways: one from the left, one from the right, and one staring down the door of the office, where she had hoped that these two would go.

She cocked her guns, flicked the safety off, and, one in each hand, kicked open the door.

What could she say? She had a flair for style.

Her arms flung themselves from her sides. Up, aiming, and firing one after the other. The intruders from the left and right began dropping to the floor in mindless heaps. She shot enough to incapacitate, like legs or arms, but not enough to kill. She only killed when absolutely needed.

When her clips were completely empty, she released the cartridges from the metal and threw the guns to the ground. The six at her front were staring her down, and she grinned evilly. She loved hand-to-hand combat. And they thought they would overpower her. They were wrong.

The first one charged at her with a knife in his hand. She easily blocked it with her forearm, and flipped him over her shoulder. He landed on the floor, and she kicked the knife from him. Two more barged at her, left and right. She easily blocked their attacks, and kicked the one to her right, she would call him Number Two, in the stomach. He groaned at the pain, his hands maneuvering to his attacked site. While he was occupied, she swung an arm out to her other assailant, Number Three. She gave him a good, strong punch to the jaw. With barely a second to spare, Ginny ducked to the left as he ran forward with his arms stretched out. She kicked him in the back, knocking him to the floor with the first one.

Number Two came back to his senses, swinging an arm wildly to punch her. She grabbed the arm with both hands, hooked a leg onto one of his, and dropped him to the floor with her knee on his stomach.

Ginny got up with a backflip off the man. The knife she kicked from her first assailant was swiftly grabbed from the floor. It landed in Number Four's shoulder. He yowled in pain, his hand immediately going to the protruding metal. Ginny swung her leg high, kicking him in the face and knocking him out.

Numbers Five and Six tried. They tried, and failed miserably. Five held a taser in his hand. _A taser? Really_? He pointed it at her, attempting to click the buttons to shoot the probes out. She was faster than he was.

Her left arm smashed his forearms upward, taser flying in the air as his grip loosened. Ginny caught it, and released it on Number Six.

Six landed on the floor in a heap. Five was then knocked unconscious by Ginny's elbow. Smirking, she surveyed her work. 12 shot, one stabbed, one tased, four knocked out. She was getting better.

She made her way back to Natasha, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow. "How's the intel?"

"Got it." Natasha said, taking a sip from a mug.

Ginny deadpanned. "You didn't."

Natasha smiled behind her mug. "I did. They didn't have any pumpkin, but I found hazelnut for you."

Natasha jerked her neck over to a table, where another steaming mug was.

Ginny grabbed it and took a quick sip, savouring the strong flavour. "Natasha, you are awesome."

Natasha gave her a playful wink. "I try."

As Ginny sipped her tea, she looked at the two workers that she left with Natasha. Their hands were tied together, and duct tape covered their mouths. They were knocked out cold.

After a few sips of the delicious hazelnut, Ginny turned on her com, and Natasha followed suit.

"Sir, we've the intel." Carter spoke.

"Good work, Agents." Fury said as Romanoff took a sip of her caffeinated beverage. "Now get back to the Triskelion. We have to debrief- Are you guys drinking?"

Natasha swallowed her sip. "Guilty as charged, Director."

"What in the hell, Romanoff?" Ginny could hear the disbelief in his voice. She just barely held back a chuckle.

"There's a coffee pot here." Romanoff said, taking another sip. "We decided to make good use of our surroundings."

"Get your asses back to the Triskelion, finished coffee or not." She could hear the eye roll that the Director was giving them. "You know, I thought you guys would be professional about going on missions."

"We are, sir." Ginny interjected. "But to be professional, we need to be awake. Caffeine wakes us up. So coffee is a necessity."

"I can hear that snark in your voice, Agent Carter." Fury was only teasing, Ginny knew. He wasn't actually mad at her, just joking off. "That'll go towards your goal of becoming Level Six by the end of the year."

"Ouch." Natasha smirked.

Ginny clutched her heart in fake-pain. "Director, no! That hurts. My heart can't take it!"

"Yeah, yeah." He said, and Ginny was certain there was at least a ghost of a smile on his lips. "Can you guys make it here in 15?"

Carter looked at the clock on the wall. Natasha smirked, "Make it 10."

"Fine, 10. Coulson will debrief you."

"Yes, sir."

"See you soon, Agents."

 _CLICK_.


	3. Chapter 3: A Ghost from the Past

_A/N: Yay! More backstory! We're **almost** to the BUS, I promise._

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Agents of SHIELD or any of their characters. I only own Genevieve Carter and her storyline._

* * *

That's how it was for them. Natasha Romanoff and Genevieve Carter. They were a good pair.

They were, until the Battle of New York. Until Coulson died. Natasha went off, with her best regards to Ginny, and became an Avenger. She went off with Barton, another high stakes Agent, and watched over the world.

Ginny was stuck being a paper pusher. Not that she wanted to be. Maria Hill keeps saying that it's because there weren't any missions for Ginny to go on. Ginny sensed a high level of bullshit, but whatever. Sitting at a desk wasn't her strongest suit. She needed to walk, to move, to do _something_. Yet, here she was. Sitting. Waiting for something to happen.

* * *

It was a Monday. She just finished a file of paper, from the Academy. Operations. Normal stuff. Rejects, acceptances, highest ranking in the class, etc. She just filed an acceptance letter with the others when an Agent said that Maria Hill would like to speak with her.

Confused, Ginny left her desk, not bothering to fix up the mess of papers that were scattered about, and walked down to Maria's office. A long walk. One that she was happy to be on. It was better than sitting down and doing nothing.

She reached the office door and looked at the name on the door.

 _MARIA HILL  
SHEILD AGENT  
EXECUTIVE DIRECTOR  
_

 _Show off!_ Ginny thought playfully. She tentatively knocked on the door.

"Come in!" Hill's voice said on the other side of the door.

Ginny twisted the knob and took a step inside. She was only in here once before, and that was when she was barely a Level One Agent.

"Good morning, Agent Carter." Hill said from her desk. She was scribbling furiously on a piece of paper.

"And to you as well, Agent Hill." Carter replied, her British accent crisp and curt.

"Take a seat." Hill's ballpoint pen pointed to the red chair in front of the desk. Ginny tentatively sat down. She didn't know why she was in there. When people get called down to the office, they've either done something incredibly stupid, or incredibly smart. Ginny hoped the latter but prepared for the first.

The second Maria finished writing, the pen was thrown on the paper and her eyes shot up to Ginny.

"Agent Carter, do you know why you're here?" She asked.

Ginny gulped. "No, ma'am."

"Good." Maria said. Ginny raised an eyebrow.

"Have I done something wrong?" Ginny asked.

"No, Agent. In fact, you've been doing incredibly well."

Ginny sighed in relief. "Then, why am I here?"

"I'm here to offer you a job. You don't have to take it, but it's in your best interest to accept."

Ginny raised an eyebrow suspiciously. Maria continued, "We're forming a team."

"What? Like the Avengers?"

"No. Nothing that high. It's a group of fully trained, Level 7 operations agents, some of our level 5 science and technology agents, and the boss. A mobile command unit."

Ginny thought it through. "But I'm only Level 6."

The door opened behind her. "Welcome to Level 7." A familiar voice rang through behind her, and she turned in her seat.

Agent Coulson.

 _The_ Phil Coulson. The one she was assigned to two years before, with Romanoff.

Ginny stared at him as the door swung shut behind him. In awe or confusion or anger, she didn't know which. He was _dead_. Well, he was _supposed_ to be.

"Hi." Coulson said, as if no time had passed between them. As if he didn't die.

Ginny said nothing back.

"I know this must be... Weird, to take in." Coulson said, a smile on his face. "I was dead. We aren't allowed to tell anyone under Level 7. Went to Tahiti for a while. It's a magical place."

Ginny just stared at him. His eyes held the familiar twinkle that she remembered seeing after a mission. The smirk that his face held, the slight wrinkles around his eyes, the handsome suit he wore, all standing in front of her instead of six feet in the ground.

She couldn't think of anything to say. Her mind couldn't wrap around the idea that he was alive.

So, she said the one thing she was dying to say.

"What the _fuck_?"


	4. Chapter 4: Goodbye

_A/N: This is the last chapter before we make it to the BUS! This is, personally, one of my favourite chapters (so far.) I have a lot planned for miss Ginny on this little command unit, so that will most likely change._

 _Disclaimer: I don't own SHIELD or any of its characters and plot line. I only own Ginny and her added plot._

* * *

Those. Those were her first words back to Coulson. Not exactly classy. But much needed.

The two were quiet, unsure of how to explain.

"You were dead. I was at your funeral. I was at your wake. You were _dead_!"

"I was." Coulson nodded. "For fourty seconds."

"Eight." Maria corrected. "It gets longer every time you tell it."

Coulson rolled his eyes at her. "Fourty. Anyway, I was used as a team builder for the Avengers."

"Death of a common ally." Ginny said, her eyes staring at a transfixed spot on the wall. "How did you survive?"

"Good surgeons. Lots of rest. Fury didn't let them give up."

"Huh," was all Ginny could say.

"The mobile team." Maria said, bringing the conversation back to her. "He requested you to join."

Ginny stared at him. A ghost. A _smiling_ ghost, but a ghost nonetheless.

"Who's on the team? What would we be taking?"

"The BUS." Coulson answered. Ginny nodded.

"The other agents?"

"I've already recruited three others. Two from sci tech and another operations agent. He's a specialist."

"And me."

"Yes, I'm hoping."

Ginny thought for a moment. "Field work?"

"Yes. You'll be in the field with the other operative, Agent Ward. Fitz-Simmons aren't cleared for combat."

"We're going to need a pilot."

"I already have that covered."

"... Alright." Ginny got up from the chair and stood in from of Coulson, her hands clasped tightly behind her back. "Reporting for duty, Agent Coulson."

"Good." He handed her a file full of papers, presumably things she would need to sign and a manual of the Bus. "Pack your things. We lift off at 0500 tomorrow morning."

"Yes, sir." She left the office, file in hand, and went back to her crummy little office space, finishing up her shift.

* * *

The next morning was odd. Ginny lived light. It was easy to pack her essentials. What was odd was saying goodbye to her dad, Steve Carter.

They lived in the same apartment. They spent, at the most, an hour together. They had different shifts and her dad did more field work than her. Most months he'd be away, working a case, and she wouldn't see him until he was back. They never texted, they barely called. And it's not as if they could talk about their days like normal people. They have to keep things confidential.

And they never cared for the weird living arrangements. Most people wanted their own apartment, away from their parents. But Ginny didn't care about it. She didn't see him anyway, and if she did she was happy. She loved her father.

So that morning at 4:00, her bag was packed and she met him sipping from a mug, a dirty teabag left in the sink. He was already in a suit, with his dark hair brushed back and his green eyes twinkling. _He is very handsome_ , Ginny thought, f _or a man his age_.

"Where are you going?" Steve asked, an eyebrow raised at her.

"I've a new assignment. A mobile command unit." She explained, grabbing hot water from a kettle left on the stove.

"Sounds like you're gonna be busy." He set the mug on the counter and gave her a look. "Do you know when you'll be back?"

She shook her head and dipped a tea bag lazily into her mug. "I don't think it's going to be anytime soon. That means you get the joy of doing the dishes tonight. I packed the essentials. I need to be going soon. The plane sets off at 5."

"Oh, wait!" He said giddily, and he ran to his bedroom at the end of the hall.

When he returned, he proudly held a _CAPTAIN AMERICA_ trading card in his hand. It was withered with age, but otherwise in perfect condition. "Take this with you. To remember me by. That way you won't forget about the little people."

She took the card from his hands and examined the picture. It was of Steve Rogers; he held his shield proudly in one hand, and the other saluted back at her. The star spangled warrior stared straight ahead, unsmiling. He was determined, cautious; everything a soldier needed to be.

"Thank you, daddy." She set the card into a small opening of her duffel, making sure it wouldn't get bent. Her mug was quickly sipped out of and tossed into the sink.

"Anytime, pumpkin." He said. She turned to him and gave him a hug.

"I have to go." She grabbed her bag and gave him a quick kiss on the cheek. "I love you."

"I love you too." He responded, and the door to the apartment closed.

It was a phrase they always said to each other. Ginny could just be going for a jog around the block and she'd make sure to say it to him. They were agents; they knew that every time they saw each other could be the last. For all she knew, it _was_ the last time she'd see him. With that constant fear on their minds, they always made sure that love was the strongest emotion they could feel. And they succeeded, most of the time.


	5. Chapter 5: Look Before You Leap

_A/N: We're here, everyone! The BUS, finally! I love this chapter, maybe more so than the fourth. This one's pretty awesome, since we get to meet some of our favourite characters._

 _Disclaimer: I don't own Agents of SHIELD or any of its characters and plotlines. I only own my OC and her added plots._

* * *

The Bus was _huge_ up close. Ginny's never seen it before, with the others in the Triskelion. But here it was, with her new Agent friends among it.

She looked at the files overnight, signing some documents and learning about the other Agents she would be working with. The reports weren't full; no classified information. Just pictures, names, IQs, and level.

Some names were new to her. Melinda May, everyone's heard of her. Coulson, obviously. Fitz from tech, Simmons from tech, and Ward from operations. And Ginny, from operations.

Ginny was sure she could remember all the names. It's not like there were too many to remember. She was only worried about the two from tech; they weren't qualified for field work. That might become a problem on missions.

She looked at the opening of the bus. It was a lot to take in. From her view, she could see a fancy-dancy lab in front, a twisting staircase to the right, and some bags tossed around. People moving their stuff in.

 _Look before you leap_ , she thought. But everything was in order. The Bus was grand, her boss was back from the dead, and the Cavalry is piloting.

Okay, so maybe not in order. But certainly exciting enough for her. So, she leaped.

Ginny walked up the ramp, holding her bag by her side. As she got in, she noticed the other inhabitants in the lab. A young woman and man, having a row with a gun on the table in front of them.

"The dendrotoxin should work!" A Scottish accent rang through the lab, his hands working furiously and too quick for Ginny to even note. What she _could_ note was his curly hair, white shirt with a brown tie, and unzipped brown sweatshirt.

"I told you, Fitz!" The woman gestured towards the gun in his hands, which Ginny noted different than those she previously worked with. "We don't have enough. To create instant paralysis we need at least two microliters!" The obviously British woman wore a pastel pink shirt and black pants. Though simple, she looked well-dressed.

Ginny smirked at the banter between the two. It was cute. They obviously knew each other very well.

The bickering between the two agents continued, until Ginny said, "Agent Simmons? Agent Fitz?"

They stopped and, in unison, turned their heads to look at her.

"Simmons." The Scot pointed towards the woman.

"Fitz." The other Brit pointed towards the man.

"I'm engineering." Fitz said. "She's biochem."

"Uh huh." Ginny noted.

"And you must be..." Simmons thought, then excitedly said, "Agent Carter!" She ran towards Ginny, whose eyes widened. She noticed Fitz smiling in the back, laughing quietly at the antics of his friend.

Simmons grabbed Ginny's hand and shook it furiously. "I'm so delighted to meet you! You're the granddaughter of Peggy Carter, yes?"

"Uh, yes, that's me. Ginny Carter." Ginny said, a laugh escaping her throat. "You're a fan of hers?"

"Oh, yes!" Simmons said, and looked down at their hands. She was still shaking Carter's. As if she was burned, she dropped the other Agents hand. "She is an inspiring Agent. The start of SHIELD, working with Captain Rogers, the SSR..."

"She's a big fan." Fitz interjected. He thought the conversation would carry on forever if he didn't.

"I noticed." Ginny smiled. "Well, I'm sure my grandmother would be happy to know she has a fan club."

"Well, when you put it that way, it sounds foolish!" Jemma ran her hands through her hair, an attempt to smoothen down her already smooth hair. "An admirer sounds better."

"An admirer." Ginny repeated. "I'll be sure to tell her that next time I visit her." Simmons just nodded quickly in response.

Ginny made her way over to Fitz and held out a hand. He gingerly shook it. Ginny felt... Almost a spark of electricity as she did. The feeling of nervousness rose in her stomach, like butterflies flitting around. Her eyes looked up at his, bright and green, entranced. She felt the blood rise to her cheeks as her stomach did another mini backflip.

She wondered if he felt it, too.

"Oh, I almost forgot!" Ginny said, taking her hand away from his. She hoped he didn't think she was being rude. She yanked out her comm receiver from her pocket. "I was told this needed to be encoded."

"Yeah, I'll take that." Fitz said, grabbing it from her hands.

He set it down on a table, and stared at it intently. Then, which a sudden jerk of his wrist, smashed it with a hammer. Ginny jumped at the sudden crunch of metal.

"He's going to repurpose the I.D.I.S. chip." Simmons informed, bending over the table to grab an object from the other side.

"Don't need the external receiver for the inner-ear comms anymore." Fitz dropped the hammer to the side.

"Huh. But how does it-" Ginny started, but was cut off by Simmons popping over to her and swabbing the inside of her cheek.

Simmons' hands held Ginny's head firmly as she spoke, "Embedded sensorineural silicone matched to your DNA. It's very posh."

"So," Ginny's tongue licked the inside of her cheek, "do you guys know when Couslon's coming? I was told 5 o'clock."

"Oh, he should be getting here very soon, along with Agent Ward and our pilot." Simmons said excitedly.

"Melinda May." Ginny nodded. She's never met the Cavalry, so she could understand the excitement.

"Yes! Leo and I were just talking about her." Simmons grinned widely.

"Leo?" Ginny looked at Fitz, who was tinkering with her comm.

"Yes, Leo." He spoke, though Ginny could hear his mind was elsewhere, "Short for Leopold."

"Leopold." Ginny repeated. "I like it."

"Thanks, it was a birthday present." Fitz said, then his eyes widened, "Oh, I mean-"

Ginny laughed at the joke, though Fitz muttered under his breath, "That was stupid. Found it on the internet."

"No, no." Ginny covered her mouth with her hand. "That was funny, not stupid. I liked it." Simmons gave a look to Fitz. One that Ginny couldn't read. _Huh_. So far, Ginny couldn't tell whether or not they were dating, or if they were just friends.

Simmons spoke to Ginny, "He prefers Leo over Leopold."

"Why? Leopold is such a great name. I don't think I've ever met another one." Ginny replied. "You're one of a kind."

"Why do you prefer to be called Ginny over Genevieve?" Fitz replied, shrugging his shoulders.

He did have a point. "Touché."

Ginny looked over to the other Brit. "And yours?"

"Jemma." Simmons smiled brightly. "Jemma Simmons."

"Jemma." Ginny repeated. "That's beautiful."

"Thank you."

"Ah! Here you go." Fitz handed Ginny her comm. "I suggest turning it on once we get in the air to make sure it works."

"Thank you, Leopold." Ginny made sure to accentuate his name with a smirk.

"Anytime, Genevieve." He smirked back at her. Damn, he doesn't let up. But neither did Ginny.

The sound of light steps behind her got her attention. Ginny turned and looked at the new agent on deck. She could only assume it was Melinda May.  
The agent held one duffel bag, swung over her shoulder. She wore a bored, neutral expression. Ginny immediately sensed the cold shoulder she gave the others.

May turned towards the staircase, away from the others.

"Excuse me." Ginny said to the two, and followed May up the stairs.

"Agent May?" Ginny asked tentatively.

May turned and gave her a look, yet said nothing.

"I'm Agent Carter." Ginny said and held out a hand. May didn't shake it, so it dropped to her side. "I was wondering if you had the files for the mission? Fitz-Simmons and I don't have any."

There was an audible huff from the Agent, but she set the duffel on a nearby table. Her hands opened it and handed Ginny three identical manilla folders. "An unregistered gifted. The Rising Tide found him. We need to get to him before they do."

Ginny shuffled through the first folder. A man, maybe in his 30s, jumping from a building and landing on the ground with a woman in his arms. The pavement underneath him was turned to gravel.

"Thank you." Ginny said. May said nothing in return. She just grabbed her duffel bag and walked off to the bus controls.

"Sunshine and rainbows." Ginny murmured under her breath as she walked back down to the lab. She made it just in time to see Jemma swab the inside of another agents cheek. Tall. Black suit. Brown hair. She guessed it had to be Ward.

She finished making her way down the stairs, where she gained the attention of the new agent.

"Agent... Carter?" Tall, dark, and handsome asked.

"Yes." Ginny nodded and held out a hand. "You must be Agent Ward. Pleasure."

"Likewise." He shook her hand. He had a strong grip. She held his gaze steadily. They were a stark contrast to her own. His were a dark brown, curious, strong. Hers, a light blue, like the sky. She decided that she liked him.

"I've heard of your work with Romanoff and Coulson. Impressive to say the least." He said as he dropped her hand. A compliment. Ginny could get used to those.

"Just doing my job." She shrugged her shoulders. "I've heard you received the highest marks in espionage since Romanoff. Quite an impressive feat as well."

"Well, I work hard, and train hard."

"Something to prove?"

"More like nothing to lose."

"Hmm." Ginny gave him a curious look. "Odd choice of words, Ward."

"Only kind I have." It was his turn to shrug.

She gave him a smile. "I'm sure we'll get along swell."

A squeaking of wheels behind the redhead gained everyone's attention. A large, bright red, and obviously old Corvette drove onto the Bus, Coulson behind the wheel.

Fitz came up behind the two Agents. "One of Coulson's old SHIELD collectibles. Flamethrowers, world's first GPS. He's mad for this crap."

"You don't say." Ginny laughed beside the Scot. He gave her a sweet smile in return.

As Coulson hopped out of the car, another SHIELD agent, not from the team, walked to the car, presumably to clean it. He was met with a very stern, "Don't touch Lola." The worker bee walked away with a small pout.

"And he calls it a girls name!" Leo grinned. Before strutting back to the lab, he gave Ward a strong tap to the bottom. Ward flinched. Ginny giggled silently.

 _This is going to be fun_ , she thought.

* * *

 _A/N: Yay, the BUS, and interaction with our science babies. And, just so everyone's informed, the chapters are going to be written in first person, from now on. Okay? Cool._


	6. Chapter 6: Bonding and Science

_A/N: Hello everyone! Please don't kill me from lack of updates. I feel so bad for not touching this in a long while. But I promise, to make up for being a bad noodle, I'm going to give you guys another one in a few days. Maybe this weekend, or early next week!_

 _And, just so everyone knows, this story is now going to be written in a first person narrative from now on. So, here you go!_

 _Update: I also decided to change the narrative to present-tense, so if this seems different from when you last read it, it probably is. I just have difficulty writing in the past tense, so I changed that too. Sorry for being weird about my writing style, but I PROMISE this is the last time it'll change! Scout's honor._

* * *

I can feel the BUS moving from the ground, gaining speed as it begins our ascension. My hands grip the edge of the lab table in front of me in hopes to keep myself steady. I've been in many planes before. SHIELD missions, trips to London to visit aunt Kylie or Grandma Peggy. Doesn't mean that I always feel safe in them.

I know, however, that I am overreacting. Once we are actually stable and in the air, I'll most likely forget about it.

"You okay?" Simmons asks, light concern in her tone. She and Fitz are off on their own projects, using large tools that I have no idea how to work. I stand off to the side, watching in fascination.

I give a weak nod. "Take offs just give me a headache."

She nods in agreement. "Same here."

"Once we're stable I'll feel better."

"Try taking your mind off it." She suggests as she tinkers with... Some sciencey tool. I can tell she's working on a gun, but any details after are beyond me.

"How?"

"Have you unpacked in your bunker yet?" She asks.

Come to think of it, I haven't. Out of the corner of my eye, I see my duffel bag slouched in the corner of the lab. "Actually, no."

"Oh! You should then." She gives her Scot friend a side-eye, one I can't read. I swear, they can read each other's minds. Not even a full half hour with them and I already feel out of the loop with my fellow agents. "Fitz hasn't either. Maybe he could go up with you and unpack in his, too."

I shrug my shoulders. "Why not?"

"One second." He sets down some sort of heat-emitting tool and yanks off a set of gloves. Then he runs to where he and Simmons had tossed all of their luggage earlier, shuffling through the pile to find his pack. I so to my duffel bag and grab it, slinging it over my shoulder with ease.

The glass doors of the lab open automatically as I walk in front of them. Leo follows suit behind me, a pack of his own in toe. Together we jog up the stairs and head to the bunkers.

There are three in a row near the wing to the left, and it's mirrored on the right. Coulson has his own, set somewhere in his office towards the front. May, Ward, and Jemma have taken the ones to the right of the plane.

Fitz seems almost distraught at the fact that Simmons' bunker isn't right beside his when he sets his pack down. I'm sure that Ward had just thrown his stuff down in an open one, not realizing it was reserved. In the end, Leo and I bunk right next to each other as we unpack. The last one, closest to the opening of Coulson's office, remains empty.

The _CAPTAIN AMERICA_ trading card my father gave me is set proudly on my nightstand, along with my contact lens case, a little bottle of saline for them, and my old pair of glasses. Not that I ever use them, but just in case. My clothes are thrown lazily into the top two slots in my tiny dresser, and a couple necklaces rest on the top. And, of course, a picture of my family. It's from a Fourth of July party, years ago. Mum was still alive, happy and bright. It's easy to notice that I have her features. The bright blue eyes, the reddish hair (though mixed with dads, it isn't as bright,) even the soft jawline. But, I have my dad's nose and smile. And a larger chunk of his personality. I'm a great mix of them.

"Genevieve?" Fitz calls on the other side of the sliding door to my room. "Almost done?"

I set the picture on my dresser with a smile. "Yeah!" I open the door and nearly walk into him. _Stupid turbulence_.

"Sorry." I apologize immediately, but he just waves it off. "It's because we're in the air. I promise I'm not this bad usually."

"I don't doubt it." He says, and we walk through what seems to be the living room area. The couches are lovely; a light tan and they look delightfully soft. To the left is a small bar, one which I fully believe will be used after each mission. "This is basically the 'sea legs of the air.' _Air_ legs? Is that a thing?"

I chuckle. "I don't think that's the term, but I know what you mean."

"Good." He gives me a sweet smile. Then he furrows his brows in thought. "How many times have I made a complete fool out of myself in front of you today? I want to keep track in case the number gets bigger."

It makes me laugh. "None so far."

"I said the stupidest joke on the planet to you that I found on the internet. That kinda makes me a fool."

"Nonsense!" I defend the joke. "I thought it was quite funny. And trust me, I _love_ funny."

"Do you now? I'm learning a lot about you, then."

"Really? Like...?"

"Well," he starts counting on his fingers as we sit down onto the couch, "One, you like funny. Two, you get a little sick during a planes take off. Three, you're a wee bit stubborn."

I point my chin out and cross my arms in mock anger. "I am no such thing. How dare you insinuate that!"

Leo chuckles heartily at my fake anger. _I did say I liked funny_. I grin and uncross my arms. "Well, then you know more about me than I about you."

"Well, what do you want to know?" He asks, throwing out his hands in an offhand gesture. "Shoot."

"What, like Twenty Questions?"

"Why not? We're going to be stuck on a plane together for who knows how long. Might as well learn a bit about each other."

"Fine." I say, snuggling into the comfiness of the seat. I think for a moment, finding a question. "What year did you graduate SHIELD Academy?"

"Hm, odd first question." He notes, but I shrug my shoulders in response. "Jemma and I graduated two years early."

"Together?"

"Yeah." He smiles at the thought of his friend. "She and I became conjoined at the hip there."

"Really?" I ask, hopefully hinting a little at their relationship.

"Basically." He doesn't take the hint. "You?"

"I graduated my fourth year there, the second in the class."

"Impressive."

"Okay, question number two." I say, straightening up in the couch. It's his turn to pick.

"Favourite animal?"

"Easy." I grin. "Cats."

"Cats? Really?" He groans. "They're little demonic banshees from hell."

I laugh. "No they're not! Not all of them, anyway."

He rubs his temples in response. "And to think, I thought you were decent just a moment ago."

"Oh, shut up!" I playfully smack his forearm. "What about yours?"

"Monkeys."

I give a gesture of indignation. "Mine is a demonic banshee from hell, but yours flings its poop around. I think I win here."

"Monkeys are very smart!" He defends them.

"Sure, Leo. That's why they throw poop at us."

I test the waters with the nickname. He doesn't say no, and he doesn't disagree. I take it as a good sign.

"Fine. I highly disagree with that, but you like cats. There's no getting through to you." He tells me, crossing his arms.

"Okay. Let's agree to disagree."

"Deal." He nods. "You have the next question."

I think for a moment before deciding. "Are you and Simmons...?"

"Are me and Simmons, what?" He furrows his brows.

"Dating?" I clarify.

"Oh, god no." He answers, laughing as if the thought is crazy. "Jemma's like my annoying little sister."

"Really?" I question. "You two just seemed... So in sync."

"Well, yes. We're together most of the time, and we are _very_ close, so it just kind of happens. But we are NOT dating."

"Okay." I say with a nod. I smile inwardly. _Nice_.

"...How about you?" He asks, scratching the back of his neck. From his body language, he seems nervous. His fingers intertwine in his lap, cracking his knuckles.

I shake my head at the thought. "No, not really. Haven't had one since my Academy days."

"Really?" Fitz says. I can see a glimmer of _something_ in his eyes, but I can't tell what it is. Joy? Confusion? Maybe a little of both?

"Yeah." I nod to him. "It's not like I have time for significant others anyway. I mean, I'm a SHIELD agent. There's the whole, "married to the job," thing with us agents. Missions take over my life. When would I have time to go on a proper date?"

He shakes his head. "Maybe you'll get lucky?"

I shrug in my seat. "Maybe."

At that moment, Coulson walks through the living-room like area, and I know immediately that Twenty Questions is over. I can feel his leader-like demeanor set in. He's holding a file, the words _RISING TIDE_ printed on the front.

I stand up almost immediately, Fitz following suit. "Do we have orders, sir?"

As he flips a page, he tells me, "We may have a hit on a Rising Tide routing point. I'm going to take Agent Ward with me to investigate."

"... Oh. Okay, sir." I say, a little dejected. It's been forever since I've had a mission with Coulson, and I wanted to do it again. Like old times. Like before he was dead. But, a mission is a mission, and he is my boss.

"Don't sound so dejected." He lightly teases, a light smirk on his face. "You'll be going with Agent May and Fitz-Simmons to check the sight. I wouldn't keep you outta the field for long. You would maul me if I did."

I grin at him as the three of us walk down the twisting stairs. "Oh, sir, I would be much more professional than that."

"Would you?"

"Of course. I wouldn't maul; just gently maim." He chuckles at my remark. With that, he and Ward leave, taking one of our SHIELD vans with them.

"Oh, you two are close?" Fitz asks me.

I nod and take a few steps towards, "Lola," and stare at the pristine red shine. "Yeah, I worked under him with my S.O."

"And who was that? If you don't my asking." Jemma pops out of the lab, carrying a large briefcase with her. She quickly tosses it into Leo's hands and goes back to grab another one of their tools.

"An old friend." I say, shaking my head with a smile. "She's somewhere, probably saving the world right now."

"Interesting friend." She takes another case with her, this time holding it instead of handing it over to Fitz.

"You don't know the half of it."

May quickly bounds down the stairs, wearing a black and white pantsuit, professional attire like the rest of us. She seems very formal, _too_ formal, for the Cavalry. "Ready to go?"

"Yes, Agent May." I say, speaking for the mini group.

"Get in the back then." She points to the other van we have, not Lola. Before I hop in with the others, though, I run my hand along the red door of Coulson's car with an impish grin. _I touched Lola_.

* * *

The first thing I see when we get there is a large spot in the ground turned to rubble. The shocks come from two spots most prominent in the rubble, most likely the Hooded Hero's feet or knees, depending on how he landed. _It's crazy, thinking a man could have done this on his own. How powerful he must be._

"Jesus." I mutter. I kneel down onto the spot, trying to align my knee with one of the spots. I only succeed in getting my black pants dirty.

"You're not helping while you're on the ground." May says to me. I look up and notice her staring down at me, and my cheeks flush pink in embarrassment.

"Just thinking." I shrug, standing up and wiping off the gravel and dust from my knees. "It's crazy, isn't it? One person doing that. I mean, yeah, there's Thor and his Asgardian buddies, but a _human_ did that!"

May just hums in response. Fitz-Simmons make their way towards us, their briefcases in hands, and as a group we head into the building.

Everything is scorched, burnt to black. I'm honestly surprised the building hasn't collapsed on its own, but Simmons assures me the structure of the building is totally sound. She uses a lot of science mumbo jumbo to explain it to me, not that I understand any of it, but it makes me feel better.

"This was a lab." Jemma states as we walk to the room where the bomb went off. "Was it leased as a lab?"

I toss on a pair of gloves as May answers. "A self-empowerment centre. With a top-of-the-line motion sensor security system."

Jemma chuckles as she kneels over a dead body, burnt to a crisp. "So a secret lab, then."

"And a superhero. Not a coincidence." May turns on a flashlight, looking over a particularly bad crispy body.

I cough, gagging on the smell. "Ugh, guess who won't be having any barbecue for dinner?"

"None of us will. Like a team-building exercise." Fitz scrunches his nose in disgust. "Ew."

"So, was this explosion sabotage?" May brings the subject back to the bomb. "Was it meant for him? Or were they just in over their heads?"

"Working on that problem." Leo announces, attempting to move his way past another set of charred remains without puking. "Excuse me, ladies- ah, sorry."

Once he makes it through to a mostly clean area, he sets his briefcase on the floor. He puts the code in to unlock it as May tells him, "If you're gonna be in the field, Agent Fitz, you have to get your hands dirty."

He grabs a large, tri-folded tablet and sets it on his hand, clicks a button, and brings it to life. The screens all light up with bright blue hues, telling off scientific notations and equations I can't even _begin_ to comprehend but it seems to make complete sense to Fitz.

As he presses a couple more buttons on the screen, he pointedly tells May, "No, I don't." With one more click, eight little squares with legs fly off into the air, moving around the room and scanning debris with a blue ray. "High ho, off to work you go."

"Woah." I say, amazed. "I'm impressed. What are they?"

"D.W.A.R.F.S." Fitz explains, tapping away at the tablet in his hand. "Jem- Agent Simmons and I created them." He hands Jemma her own hand tablet, and she begins tapping away at hers as well.

"Drones Wirelessly Automated to Retrieve Forensics." Simmons adds. "These little beauties were made to seek out and analyze forensic evidence at a crime scene. We designed each with their own capabilities, so, um, some are recording the dimensions and texture of the room, and then some testing the matter density; radiation. I mean, one is just basically smelling."

I listen, thoroughly impressed at the quad-coptors buzzing around the room, scanning everything in sight with a blue ray. They work harmoniously, and it's almost relaxing, in a sense, to watch them buzz around.

"I've got something in... Something." Fitz distractedly notes, his eyes squinting at the information on his screen.

"Who's got it?" Simmons asks, nimble fingers quickly flying to get his information on her own tablet.

"Bashful." He points to the drone a few feet from where May is standing. She rummages through the rubble, and successfully yanks out an old, burnt security camera.

"Surveillance camera." She announces. "Deep fried."

"Yes, but that model has flash memory in case of burn outs." Fitz says, pleased with the drones' work. "Now, I could sync that data from the motion detectors and, with a little luck, get some images from before the blast." He grins to May, who holds a neutral expression. He sheepishly looks down to the camera in her hands, muttering out, "and by 'luck,' I mean, 'unappreciated genius.'"

"And we'll need it." Simmons frowns at her tablet. "Snows reading some compounds that are- _woah_." She follows her little drone over to a pile of cracked asphalt. She whispers out, "oh my god," as she kneels down to the ground.

"Explosive?" I ask her.

"No. Not of this earth." She grabs a long line of hexagons from the ground and holds it up. On one side, the hexagons glow a dim mix of amber and yellow, though most are cracked and rusty. The other side holds sharp prongs, like large needles. I shiver; I hate needles.

We all wait as the DWARFS continue their handiwork. They scan, test, and note almost everything on the site. By the time we bagged and tagged the camera and hexagon line, it's time to go.

"Well, I think the DWARFS did their jobs well." Fitz clicks on his tablet with a grin. "I say we give them a little break now, yeah? We got all we need from here."

As if pulled by an invisible string, the drones all fly back to the briefcase and deactivate themselves. They even set themselves in their own correct spots, marked by their names at the bottom. As we walk out, I stroll over to Fitz.

"Nice work, Leo." I compliment. "How long did it take you and Jemma to make those guys?"

He grins sheepishly at the compliment. "Oh, it wasn't that hard for most of them, actually. The only one that took long was Snow, but that's only because she checks the radiation levels."

"Interesting." I gave a nod to his words.

"He's forgetting to tell you that _I_ did most of the work on her." Jemma pops in, bumping her shoulder playfully against his. "He got too annoyed with the programming portion that I just took over and let him work on Sneezy and Bashful."

He blushes lightly at the accusation. "I helped!"

"Oh, you did." She says with a smirk. "Only when all the programming was finished. You did assembly."

I laugh at the banter between the two. _They're like an old married couple_. "Either way, I'm really impressed."

* * *

 _A/N: Hope you guys liked it! Next chapter we get to meet one of my favourite characters on this amazing show- Skye/Daisy! Feel free to leave a review or PM with your thoughts on this._


	7. Chapter 7: Teamwork

_A/N: Hello. I. Am. So. Sorry. for this long ass wait. I truly, honestly am. I have no excuse. There hasn't been new content for this fic in what... eight months? Nine? I apologize, from the bottom of my heart. I hope you guys can forgive me for just leaving you in the dust._

* * *

We get back on the BUS before nightfall, and are incredibly surprised at what Coulson and Ward brought from their side of the mission. It isn't a _what_ , but a _who_.

"A member of the Rising Tide." Coulson informs us. "Her name is Skye. Right now she's interrogating Ward."

"Wait, _she's_ interrogating _him_?" I ask. He nods.

"She'll be out in five minutes."

I give him a perplexed look and a strong shake of my shoulders, but he only gives me his signature smirk in response.

The interrogation is put on our screen in the conference room, (because, yes, the BUS has one of those!) We manage to catch the last few questions that this, "Skye," had for our agent. _Did you have any animals growing up?_ Stuff of that nature. And once the girl is out, she's brought to our conference room.

Long brown hair cascades down her shoulders, with brown eyes that twinkle brightly, and she wears a purple shirt. Her smirk is very mischievous; playfully childish and has an heir of, "I-know-something-you-don't-know." In short, she's cocky. _Also, gorgeous. Not gonna lie, she is beautiful._

I stand beside Fitz-Simmons, each holding pieces of science equipment. I hold my SHIELD badge, my level proudly written at the bottom. _Level 7_. I flip it open and closed, fidgeting because I have nothing to do. Coulson casually stands beside the holographic table in the middle, leaning against it as he quickly pulls up some files on Mr. Gifted. Skye strides into the room, her boot heels clicking against the floor.

"Did Agent Ward give you anything?" Coulson asks.

As she makes her way over to the other side of him, she says, "He told me he's been to Paris, but he's never actually seen it, and that he wishes you stayed in Tahiti."

"It's a magical place." He tells her automatically. Her hands grip the edge of the table, her fingers tapping the light blue hue that beams out of it. Each press to the screen makes a small circle form, bright white and just underneath her fingertips. She's in awe of it, I can tell, but she makes no comment of it.

"Ward doesn't like your style," she says instead. "Kinda think I do."

"What about _his_?" Coulson lightly presses a file that's on the holographic table and flicks his wrist to the screen that Fitz-Simmons and I stand next to. The audio-video file plays, showing the unidentified gifted hitting a foreman with heavy equipment from his factory. I wince inwardly as he yanks out a tank from the wall and begins to beat the foreman again. Sure, I've taken heavy hits, but nothing like that before.

As the news reporter on screen speaks of the assault, Skye shakes her head firmly. "This is _wrong_. This is not... The guy I met. He was..." She sighs heavily at the tv. "He just needs a break."

"Then give him one." Coulson says earnestly. "What've you got?"

With a thought, she gets a card out of her front pocket. His license. She hands it to Coulson and he sets it on the holo-table. Underneath the license lights up yellow, imitating a folder as it scans the card. He calls in May and begins to debrief us as a whole group, Skye included.

"Michael Peterson, factory worker, married, one kid." Coulson states. The files we originally had up are discarded to the left as tabs, and more articles pop up connected to the license. Fitz-Simmons and I lean over the table to look more closely.

"Gets injured, gets laid off, wife jumps ship. Good guy, bad breaks. Best guess is, somebody tells him they can make him strong again, make him super."

"Who has the tech to do that?" May asks, sounding as baffled as I am. "And why would they want to?"

"Fitz, what do we have from the security footage before the blast?"

Leo begins typing at an alarming rate on the holograph, pulling up the data and flicking it to the tv like Coulson did earlier. The footage is very blurry, but I can make out two men on the screen, one wearing a lab coat. The other looks like a junkie searching for his next fix.

"What are we seeing?" May asks, her voice authoritative.

"Well, the man is angry at the other man." Fitz points out. May rolls her eyes. Coulson gives an, "obviously," look to Fitz, making him a little flustered.

"The data is very corrupt." Simmons points out, letting Fitz out of the spotlight.

"Yeah," he scoffs, "like Cold War Russia corrupt."

Simmons nods apologetically to Coulson as Fitz informs us, "I-I can't sync the time code without-"

"What if you had the audio?" Skye asks. The science duo look at her questioningly.

"I was... Running surveillance on the lab." Her cheeks flush as we all look to her, taking in the explanation. "I had my shotgun mic pointed at the window before the blast. The digital file's in my van. There's too much background noise for me, but _you_ could probably-"

"You can clean that up, can't you?" Jemma asks Leo, completely breaking off Skye's question. "Find a sync point and use cross-field validation to find-"

"But I can't scrub for expression patterns when the Vit-C is all-"

"Well, is there a chrominance subcarrier?"

"Well, yeah, attached to the back porch. Brilliant!"

They look to Skye (in sync, might I add,) and Fitz tells her, "Um, that audio would be great. Thank you very much."

At the same time, Simmons says, "We will take that audio, thank you, please."

She looks to them, bewildered but nods at the, "yes please's," and looks to Coulson.

"Your van's here, but you were right; we couldn't decrypt the files." He tells her.

"The encryption's coupled to the GPS. Get my van back in that alley and we're back in business."

"Agent May will escort you. And on your way out, wake up Ward." May nods to Coulson, and Skye follows her out the door.

Fitz and I begin working on setting up another holographic something-or-another (He tried to explain the tech to me but I was so lost that even he gave up hope on me being able to understand it.) Simmons leaves us to go grab the hexagonal line to show Coulson, and the both of them are going to come back to the lab to start doing tests on it.

As Leo sets up the hologram tech, he gives me pieces to hold for him while he uses a solder, wrench, and a screwdriver to put pieces together and set up the holograph devices. Fitz has a comm receiver in his ear, using it to communicate with Skye from her van. I'm currently holding screws in my hand, standing beside Leo as he starts to twist one in place with a screwdriver. Before the job is done, though, Skye starts talking on her end.

He quickly drops the screw back into my hand and he scurries to the computer, chatting away with Skye about the file. "So, ah, when you get back, I can show you my thing."

His cheeks immediately redden and he squeaks out, " ** _A_ ** thing. It's not... It's my hardware. My _equipment!_ Let's just... Hang up!" He quickly throws the comm onto his desk and begins typing away at the keyboard.

Feeling rather courageous, I walk behind him and smirk. "Wow, only one day with us and you're already showing her your hardware? I'm feeling neglected."

He turns to look at me, ears bright red and he babbles out, "That's not what I meant! I just-"

I laugh heartily at the response. "I'm _teasing_ , Leo. Just a joke."

He grumbles under his breath, still very red in the face but slowly relaxing from the embarrassment high.

Just then, the doors to the lab open and Simmons and Coulson come strolling through, the bag of hexagonal lines in her hand.

She sits down at her own desk and begins working on her own piece as Leo and I get back to work.

"So, the alien metal wasn't the explosive?" Coulson asks her.

She begins to cut through the burnt metal as she responds. "Well, I assumed from the break pattern and dispersion that it _was_ , but it's just dripping with gamma radiation and- oh, now it's actually dripping! Fun!"

The lab door opens yet again, and Ward strolls through, noticeably angry with Coulson. "So what did that get us?" He asks, annoyance dripping from every word.

"Skye's sending us the rest of her decrypted files on Centipede." Fitz answers, grabbing the tablet that he used on the DWARFS earlier. "But we have her audio. I've loaded it up."

"Nice work." Coulson tells Ward, giving him a smirk.

"Now, using motion estimation, Bayesian inference, a beam splitter, and a little diffraction theory, our mystery man..." He quickly types on the tablet, and the beams that we worked on together light up like a Christmas tree. The picture that we had on the tv in the conference room is now a three dimensional holograph in front of our very eyes, matching the colors perfectly.

"Appears!" Leo finishes, grinning. I gasp lightly at the hologram. _Damn_ , I think. _He did really well._

"It's like magic." He smiles to Ward as the agent moves closer to the projection. "But it-it's science!"

Ward circles around the image, looking at the two men; the scientist and the experiment. "Explosives in the case?"

The image starts to move, and the scratchy audio begins. "Please just ca-calm down. Just let me ch-check your vitals." The scientist looks worried. He holds his arms out, trying to keep the crazed patient away from himself.

"I feel fine. I want to feel _more_!" The trial patient says. His beard is patchy and unkempt, his hair ragged. His clothes are baggy and raggedy, and with wide eyes he screams, "Where's the doctor? _Where is she?!_ "

"If you don't set-settle down," the scientists voice quivers, "I'll-I'll have you sedated!"

" _Where is she?!_ " The patient screams again, and this time he grabs a stool with a single hand and brings it down on the table in front of him.

"Wait- Did you see that on his arm?" Leo furrows his brows together, and he rewinds the hologram to the point just before the chair is smashed. The hexagonal line is _in_ the patients arm.

"What does that look like to you?" Coulson asks. His question is aimed at Ward, who is standing right in front of the frozen image.

"A Centipede." Ward answers.

"It's an intravenous filter for his blood." Jemma nearly jumps out of her chair to get to the rest of us. "This goo, sir, is very similar to the serum Dr. Erskine developed in the 40's for the-"

"Super soldiers." Coulson whispers it, but we all hear it, loud and clear.

Jemma continues. "I'm reading alien metal, gamma radiation, the serum- every known source of power thrown into a blender."

Coulson turns to Fitz, using his authoritative voice. "We need to see the origin of the blast. Run it back from the last point recorded."

Fitz answers right away, swiping on the tablet and the hologram fast forwards itself to the last recording. The blast in full force, a huge mushroom cloud of smoke and fire all mixed. Then, he rewinds the recording slowly, shrinking the cloud until it's no longer there. Instead, it's the patient, looking like he's glowing from the inside. The explosion was _him_.

"Extremis." Coulson says, looking directly at the hologram man. "It's new; completely unstable."

"Poor man didn't _bring_ an explosive. And Mike has the same stuff in his system." Jemma tells us.

"And judging by his strength level, a lot more." Ward adds. _Shit_.

"So any moment now Mike is gonna-?" Fitz starts.

"He'll take out anyone within a two-block radius." Simmons answers.

"Well," Coulson walks to the door of the lab, stopping where Ward stands, "you wanted a bomb."

Ward huffs in annoyance as Coulson leaves, but he trails behind our boss, going upstairs. I follow suit; there's nothing for me to do in the lab, I'd much rather be working on something I'm good at. Liking helping Ward put together a sniper rifle holder and scope on the holographic table.

I'm given the task of cleaning each piece before handing it to him to put together. We're halfway done with the rifle as Fitz-Simmons comes back upstairs, informing Coulson, "Sir, he didn't explode because he was angry. The two _are_ connected. It's kind of a chemical surge. But calming him down will buy him a minute at most. He _will_ detonate within the next few hours."

"Solution?" Coulson asks.

"Isolate him, get him away from people?"

"Or?"

"Put a bullet in his brain." Fitz answers dejectedly.

Jemma elaborates, "If he's dead, this irradiated metabolic process will stop."

"We need to come up with a third option- one that doesn't involve Mike's son losing a father." Coulson says, authoritative.

"We have a couple of hours at most. There's no way that we could possibly-" Jemma starts.

"Don't _ever_ tell me there's no way!" Coulson nearly yells it. "It's on you. Get it done."

The duo scurry away, looking like nervous baby kittens. I turn back to Ward, and he grabs all of what we've assembled for the holder and stuffs it into a bag.

As Coulson enters our room, he clicks on the comm in his ear and the audio jumps into the computer on the wall. "May?"

"He took Skye." I hear her gasp out.

His face turns into immediate concern. "You all right?" Coulson asks.

"We'll deal with that later, at _length_. Right now we need to figure out where they went."

Coulson nods, though May can't see it. "We're coming to you. Stay put."

He clicks his comm, shutting it off. "You two ready?"

I nod excitedly. Ward gives a shrug for an answer. "As ready as we'll ever be."

We head down the circular steps with our gear to toss in our SHIELD van, ready for a fight. I can feel it; there's going to be a fight. _I'm ready for one_. My adrenaline's already pumping in my veins.

"What is this nonsense? Why are you making nonsense?!" I can hear Simmons asking Fitz, agitated. They've been working on this concoction for a while (a while in SHIELD time is actually around an hour, but for Fitz-Simmons it felt like three.) They work determinedly per Coulson's orders; they want to save Mike.

"This isn't me!" Fitz says defensively.

"What's happening in there?" I ask, running up to them. They're at one of their many computers, and in the corner of the screen, "SECURITY BREACH," is bolded in red at the top left. The rest of the screen is filled with tiny green numbers, like some code. "Oh my."

"It's not me." Fitz says again. My hand goes to the back of the chair he's sitting on, and the other goes on the desk as I lean to the screen. "It's noise. Someone's hacking our secure channel."

"It's longitude and latitude." Coulson walks into the room. "Mike took Skye. She's telling us where." _Smart girl_.

The entrance to the plane opens broad for us, and Coulson takes the front seat of an SUV. Ward takes the passenger side.

"Looks like that's my cue to leave you two." I tell the science duo with a grin. _Finally. Something to do_. "Good luck on that serum! I'll see you on the battlefield."

I pat the backside of the chair and twist from them, hopping in the back of the car behind Coulson.

* * *

He takes no time to reach the longitude and latitude points Skye sent us. We're at the Union train station in less than an hour (don't ask how fast he was going.) Coulson grabs an amplifier from the back of our van and the three of us begin walking.

As we get to the front doors of the station, my hand itching for a fight, I hear Ward telling Coulson, "Look at this place. You're gonna risk thousands of lives over some nobody."

"Nobody's nobody, Ward. FitzSimmons will come through." Coulson says coolly.

We get to the rusty blue van that can only be Skye's, and Coulson speaks into the amplifier. "Mr. Peterson, good morning. We're not a threat; were here to help. But you're in danger, and we need to take you in."

I silently pray that Mike will come with us easily, but knowing what the Centipede drug does to a person, he wouldn't hold hands with us and skip into the sunset. No, this will be hard, just like any other mission. I'm just waiting for the boot to drop.

The door to Skye's van goes flying out at us, and I think, _there it goes_.

Non-federal personnel around us scream and jump in fear of the new projectile. I crouch out of the way to save myself. I can feel the mixture of excitement and adrenaline pulsing and I mentally grin.

Mike grabs his son and Skye and they mush through the crowd and into the front doors. Ward, pushed to the ground by the unexpected blast, grabs his gun out of his holster and makes his way to the doors. Coulson and I follow suit, my hand twitching slightly. Ready to punch. Ready for _anything_.

"Carter, I want you on the second floor balcony. Form a perimeter, get as many people out. Wait for Agent May. Ward, come with me." Coulson instructs. "You get to help diffuse a bomb."

I nod and say, "Yes, sir," and make my way to the stairs, taking two at a time and telling as many people, "I'm with SHIELD. We need to evacuate the area. Please exit the building." My comm goes off every now and then, Coulson barking orders and May finally getting inside the building with us.

As soon as that job is done I make my way to the large glass doors on the outside. My eyes trail Mike and his prisoner Skye going up the stairs in the middle of the chaos. Since I'm outside on the posh balcony I don't hear any words, but I see Mike yelling to Skye, and then someone taking a shot at the two of them. And then suddenly the back of my head gets bit with something strong and I fall to the ground.

I groan, my hand automatically going to the attacked site. When I pull it back there's blood at my fingertips. I don't waste time, swinging my arms together with my elbows out at my persons knees and getting them to drop to the ground. My eyes vaguely roam over the person, noting that they're a blonde female with an alarmingly tight bun atop her head. She points her handgun at me from her new spot on the ground and pulls the trigger. I grit my teeth as I hear the glass door crack from the shot. I try to wrestle the gun from her hands, and once I finally get it out of her hands she pulls a pocket knife out. _Argh, I hate pocket knives._

She gains the advantage and begins thrusting the blade at me. The motion makes me maneuver awkwardly backward, falling on the back of my thighs. I scoot back on my butt as she thrusts it forward again, dangerously close to my face. I'm so occupied by the knife that I barely notice a second person reaching the balcony. This person, a man with a shotgun, points it at Mike inside the station and shoots multiple times. The sound of glass breaking makes me internally scream. _No!_

With my focus on the other guy instead of the knife, it gets too close this time and it makes contact with my arm. A decent laceration is made, at a downward angle and deeper than I would have liked. I cry out in pain and in vain try to grab the bottom of the knife from her hands.

I desperately kick at her legs underneath her, and a small cry of victory plays in my head as she goes back again. With a big kick of adrenaline, I punch her in the face and she's out like a light.

 _Okay, now onto baddie number two_. My eyes scan to the left and right of the balcony, and I notice immediately that Baddie Number Two is lying on the ground motionless, with Agent May standing above him. Her eyebrow cocks up at me. "Took ya long enough."

My jaw drops open. "May?! How long have you been standing there?"

"Not long. I knocked him out first." She answers smugly. "You need more knife combat training."

My lips press into a hard line at the comment. "Thanks." I say flatly.

"C'mon." She cocks her head to the door, and I follow suit. We go inside together, meeting up with Ward and Fitz perched on the balcony. Ward has the sniper rifle held out, staring at Mike. Some pieces of it are lit up in blue. _The serum, maybe?_

Then Ward takes the shot, hitting Mike straight in the forehead. Mike, standing awfully close to Coulson below us, falls backward as his face flushes in blue. Simmons runs out to him, checking for a pulse. With a grin, she gives us a thumbs up and Fitz gives one back to her.

"We did it." I sigh in relief.

"Yeah, we did." Fitz grins back to me. Then his eyes go directly to the gash in my shoulder. "You're bleeding."

"'Tis a flesh wound." I brush off. His hands go gently to the cut, pulling away the ripped shirt sleeve and exposing the dried blood beginning to cake the edges. I wince as his fingers roam the edges of it.

"Not just a flesh wound." He says. "You're gonna need stitches."

"I've had worse." I tell him.

His eyes go up to mine in concern momentarily before he lets go of my arm. "Jemma could probably fix it for you."

"I'll be sure to ask." I assure him.

"Well, I'd call our first mission a success." Ward smirks to us. He pulls the rifle off the balcony expertly, setting it back into the duffel bag beside him.

"Hell yeah it was." I give an earnest smile to him before turning to look at May. "Where'd May go?" My eyes scan over the station, finding her by Coulson and Skye below.

"Damn woman has catlike reflexes." Fitz points out. I nod in agreement. "She truly is the Cavalry."

"She saved my ass today." I note aloud. "Truly Cavalry material."

The three of us all begin our descent down the stairs to the rest of our group. May and Coulson are already handling the authorities at the door, ready to pull out the red tape, I'm assuming. Jemma, after checking and double checking that Mike's readings are normal, runs over to us when we reach the bottom of the staircase. Her arms go around Fitz's neck, hugging him tightly and laughing out, "We did it, Leo!"

His arms go around her tiny form in response, laughing with her. "Yes, we did! We need to celebrate back on the BUS."

"Of course!"

"Goodness, you guys are so lovey dovey." I roll my eyes playfully at them. The two break apart, each having a shit-eating grin on their features.

"This is our first mission! And it was successful. If that's not cause for celebration I don't know what is." Jemma excitedly explains.

I nod to her. "Very true, but it's only our first. We're gonna fail too. Missions don't always end happy. Be excited now, but don't expect this joy always."

"Party pooper." Leo grumbles, shoving his shoulder against my good one.

"Maybe, but I'm realistic." I point out.

"Either way," Jemma juts in, "we were successful today, and we deserve to celebrate."

 _The science kids did good today. Don't rain on their parade_.

So I smile to them and say, "Yeah, sure!" I grab my bad arm and point out the dried blood to Simmons. "After you sew me up, hopefully?"

"Of course!"

* * *

Four chicken teriyaki sticks, wontons, and a to-go cup of fried rice later, I'm officially sewn up by Simmons. Skye and Coulson left to go tell Ace, Mike's son, that Mike is safe and sound, and will come home, eventually.

I sit next to Ward, picking at rice slowly while Fitz-Simmons flit about, talking science-nonsense. I hit the bottom of the to-go box when Ward's phone goes off, Maria Hill proudly lit up on the screen.

"Ward." He picks it up stiffly.

"I saw your teams work today. Good job." I can hear Hill congratulate. "Ready for another mission?"

"I'm always ready." He answers automatically. All eyes are on him as he goes to the other side of the room, giving his conversation privacy from me and the science duo.

"What do you think it is?" Fitz pops down beside me, sipping from a beer bottle. _Where'd he get that?_ "Suspicious murder? Kidnapping? Bomb?"

He leans in a bit to me, a smirk playing on his lips. " _Aliens_?"

"My money's on suspicious murder." Jemma leans against the table, her slender fingers holding a beer bottle too. _Damn, I feel left out_. "A women found unconscious with stab wounds and no weapon matches. Turns out it's a weapon from Asgard and we get to meet Thor." She waggles her eyebrows at me.

I groan aloud. "I would _love_ to meet Thor."

"Any straight women would. Maybe even a few men." She adds, sipping her beer contently.

"Are you two gonna start drooling?" Fitz rolls his eyes. "He's only a god, with beautiful blonde hair. He's only saved the world, what, _twice_? Pshh."

"Jealous?" I tease.

He blushes lightly, shaking his head. "No, of course-"

"We got an 0-8-4." Ward announces. The three of us jerk our heads over to him.

"What?" and, "No way," are uttered at the same time from Fitz-Simmons.

"Really?" I raise my brow, suspicious. "Confirmed?"

He shakes his head and makes his way to the rest of us. "They want _us_ to go in and confirm it."

"Call Coulson then." I say. He quickly taps on his phone and calls our boss.

As he gets off his phone, I look over the three of them. "Ready for round two?"

* * *

 _A/N: Not much, but I hope this makes up for not writing in so long. As you all have probably noticed by now, this is written with a present-tense narrative. In the earlier chapters, it was past tense. Well, since I like to be confusing it's going to stay in present-tense. I also changed chapter 6 to be in present-tense too, along with some minor grammatical changes._

 _And, just so you all know, I'm not going to go through all of season one. As much as I love it, I just can't stomach going through all of it with Genevieve added in. Truthfully, she wouldn't change much here. Season two onward is where I have much more planned and much more will change. So, I'll go through a couple more episodes here, build up Fitz and Ginny's budding relationship (which doesn't even exist right now,) and have nice little team building. Then off to season two we go!_

 _Well, after all that, feel free to leave me a review on this chapter. Even if it's just to yell at my shit timing for updating new content. I'll take what I can get here._


End file.
